


A River In Egypt

by TheShinySword



Category: BanG Dream! (Anime), BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Lesbians with Swords - Freeform, Obnoxiously overt symbolism, Overcoming Internalized Homophobia with Musical Theater, Passion, Revstar AU, Song - Freeform, dance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:33:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23207794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShinySword/pseuds/TheShinySword
Summary: The Revue of Denial is playing for one night only. Please take your seats, the show will begin shortly. Our leading ladies have not prepared for this performance and it may be a disaster but perhaps, just perhaps, Himari and Tomoe can learn that denial is more than a river in Egypt.
Relationships: Udagawa Tomoe/Uehara Himari
Comments: 22
Kudos: 92





	A River In Egypt

**Author's Note:**

> You absolutely 100% do not need to know RevStar to get this. Frankly it might be better if you don't. 
> 
> Some dear friends of mine told me the best way to get out of my writing slump was to write something completely different. And so we have this.

“Okay, okay. I’ve got another.” Moca Aoba preaches on the Haneoka rooftop at lunch. With her arms spread wide and her sermon running long, Moca sells a sort of salvation to her nearest and dearest, “You’re trapped in a desert island—”

“On,” Ran, with her back huddled against the railing with her nose buried in her thin lined notebook, mutters a correction.

“O _n_ a desert island and you can only bring Tomo-chin or Kaoru-senpai,” Moca’s fingers wiggle in an arc as they pick out her next victim. Finally, they settle, like a magician doing a trick, on: “Tsugu, you’re up.”

“Hmm,” Tsugumi taps her chin studiously and grants the question more solemnity than it warrants, “I think Seta-senpai would be very entertaining on the island, but I have to pick Tomoe-chan. I think between the two of us we could probably build a boat!”

“No idea how to build a boat, but we can probably figure it out,” Tomoe muses from her comfortable position with her head in Himari’s lap. Her childhood friend combs her fingers through red tresses to try to tame the jungle on Tomoe’s head. The effects are limited.

Tsugumi clenches her fist and nods, “I bet I can find a book on ship building!”

“A-are we planning any boat trips?”

“I like to be prepared.”

“Next up.” Moca’s eyes light up with wicked delight. “Ran! You’re on a plane and the pilot goes unconscious and you must pick either Tomo-chin or Kaoru-senpai to land the plane. Which one?”

Ran scribbles something in her notebook. “Neither of them could land a plane Moca.”

“But which do you want to watch TRY!”

“Seta-san, if I have to die, I might as well laugh.”

“I could fly a plane,” Tomoe protests. “How hard can it be? You just push up.”

“…I stand by my choice.”

“Hii-chan~,” Moca croons.

Himari stops playing with Tomoe’s hair to Tomoe’s mumbling protests. “Eh? Me too?”

“Tomo-chin and Kaoru-senpai are both dying of… bad kidneyitis and your kidney is a perfect match. Who gets it?”

“Moca! That’s a ridiculous situation! Give me a better one.”

“Denied~. Moca-chan’s Tomo-chin vs Kaoru-senpai scenarios are final! Who lives, who dies Hii-chan?”

“Fine. I’d give each of them one of my kidneys and just die from not having kidneys.”

“Damn,” Tomoe rolls her shoulders, pressing her head into Himari’s comfortable thigh. “That’s dark.”

“Hii-chan.” Moca pauses and squats down so she can look look Himari in the eye as she says, “That’s the gayest thing I’ve ever heard~.”

“I-it’s not!” Himari’s fingernails dig into Tomoe’s scalp. “It’s not gay! I just don’t want my FRIENDS to DIE Moca.”

“It’s okay to be gay, Hii-chan.”

“ _I_ know that,” She jerks Tomoe’s head. It is quickly becoming apparent that using Himari as a pillow also means letting Himari use Tomoe as a stress ball. “ _I_ told you that Moca! I told ALL three of you that!”

Tsugumi, Ran and Moca exchange a look that can only be described as ‘oh Himari’ before turning back to their friends with a blank, blinking stare.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with being like that!”

Tomoe grumbles as her hair is yanked. Once.

“It’s just not like that for ME.” Twice.

“So you like Kaoru in a…”

“A totally heteroplatonic way!” Thrice.

“Himari!” Tomoe tries to worm out of Himari’s iron claw grip.

“Technically,” Ran says, “wouldn’t heteroplatonic mean you only think of men as friends?”

“Ran! You too?”

“Hey Hii-chan?” Moca loads a last ball in her cannon, aims and blows Himari over. “How’s Tomoe’s head feel?”

Wump! “Moca!” Tomoe is roughly dumped onto the ground as Himari jumps up with stomping feet. “You’re just—so— ARGH!” Himari’s never been able to keep up with Moca teasing barrages and this isn’t the day she’s going to start. So she chooses to retreat, marching to the door and shouting on her way out, “I’m going to class!”

“Ow.” The ground is a lot less comfortable than Himari’s lap. Tomoe flicks at a loose bit of gravel by her outstretched palm. She can feel a dozen other little pin prick pieces digging into the back of her hand.

“Tomoe-chan, are you okay?” Tsugumi’s face and outstretched hand enter Tomoe’s frame of vision.

She can’t help but smile, “Yeah.” Tomoe accepts her hand, though she still does the work of standing on her own. The comparable giant shakes her hands free of dirt, “Moca. That was too far.”

Moca shrugs, her smile rising lazily with her shoulders, “someone has to tell Hii-chan~.”

“She’ll figure it out on her own.”

“Tomo-chin, you’ve been saying that for years. At this rate you’re gonna die of blue,” Moca searches in the air for the right word, “ovaries.”

“That’s not a thing,” Tomoe looks to her other friends for back up but Tsugumi and Ran just politely pretend to be interested in their phones.

“Do you want your question?” Moca leans in with blue eyes much more serious than her voice reveals. She keeps her hands clasped behind her back. “You can confess your love to Hii-chan or live with the ‘what if’ the rest of your life. Which one do you choose~?”

Tomoe pushes past Moca with downturned eyes, “It’s not like that.”

“You too huh?” Moca isn’t teasing anymore.

“I’m gonna go find her.”

Tomoe exits quickly and thunders down the rooftop stairs in a vaguely Himari direction. Despite her bravado, Tomoe has no idea where Himari actually went and besides, following her was more of an excuse to exit. What could Tomoe even say to her? Confess feelings only Moca is sure exist?

Tomoe powers down the hallway, past rings of chattering classmates, to their classroom but it’s as empty as she expected. Himari doesn’t have many hiding places, at least not ones hidden from Tomoe.

Tomoe frowns to herself, not realizing what a combative image she strikes until she catches a first year in her glare and the girl yelps in fright. Her hurried apology takes up precious minutes of her search and before she can gear up and charge off to find Himari…

…she turns a corner and crashes head first into Kaoru Seta.

Fortunately, Kaoru is about as sturdy as a can tower so the impact doesn’t hurt but unfortunately she’s about as sturdy as a can tower so the pair of school princes crumple to the floor instantly in a less than regal pile. Kaoru uses the point seven seconds before impact to pose herself like she’s spread on a chaise lounge. The image is only slightly ruined as Tomoe collapses into her stomach. Kaoru, to her credit, only slightly winces.

Tomoe pushes herself up on her elbows, “S-sorry Senpai!”

Murmurs surround them as a crowd of admirers gathers. The girls mostly call out Kaoru’s name in breathy sighs but more than a handful whisper Tomoe’s name and the number only grows as word spreads that the two biggest targets of misguided affection in Haneoka are straddling each other in the hall.

“Why apologize when surely this is an occurrence of great fortune?” Kaoru’s smile dazzles her audience. Squeals fill the air around them. “A chance encounter with Tomoe? I should be thanking you instead.”

“Senpai… It’s just me…” Tomoe can feel sweat start to pool at her collar under the heavy gaze of their audience. She hates the spotlight, makes her skin crawl. When she plays the drums the attention isn’t about Tomoe Udagawa, it’s about the music, her best friends, the festival, but in this hall there is nothing between the interest of strangers and her except—

“Tomoe,” Kaoru calls out, gently knocking Tomoe from her growing panic, “I was on my way to the theater clubroom. Would you like to accompany me?”

* * *

Tomoe doesn’t remember the theater room being so cluttered. Admittedly it’s been a minute since she’d visited, but it seems unlikely that the books were supposed to be off their shelves and rolls of fabric probably had a better home than a loose stack by the door. “I can’t believe Maya-senpai let it get like this.”

“Ah, yes well,” Kaoru clears her throat with rare hesitation, “Maya does not know, and we shall not tell her! I plan to have this all cleaned up by the end of lunch!”

“That’s in fifteen minutes?”

“Then truly our meeting was fortuitous!” The actor glances at Tomoe with a sheepish look and innocently pleading eyes and Tomoe knows she has no choice but to assist. Kaoru has the sort of face one wants to help out.

Soon Tomoe is moving boxes back and forth with relaxed ease as Kaoru struggles under half the weight. Tomoe’s always been fond of manual labor and it’s fun to tidy up the room and watch it slowly begin to resemble its usual self. Fun enough to completely and totally make Tomoe forget—

“Himari—ow!” Tomoe shouts, dropping a bundle of crimson fabric on her foot with her remembrance. “Shoot, I was looking for Himari.”

“Is Himari-chan in trouble?” Kaoru asks, peeking around a small box of books that makes her arms tremble.

Tomoe struggles to figure out how much Himari would be okay with her divulging to Kaoru of all people. But Kaoru has a face that makes people confess things, “I have something I need to tell her.”

Kaoru’s eyes glisten with excitement and Tomoe can already hear her jumping to conclusions and forming an elaborate plan. It’s probably a musical revue with five costume changes and a chorus line but Tomoe’s basically tone deaf and that wouldn’t solve the underlying issues so she rushes to cut Kaoru off as the word ‘extravaganza’ starts to leave her lips.

“It’s not whatever you’re thinking.” Tomoe scoots the fallen cloth with her toe. “It’s just, something’s holding Himari back from… from accepting who she is. I just want her to be happy and I don’t think she is. But I don’t know how to tell her that.”

Kaoru has nearly folded in half from the weight of the tiny box she’s holding but her eyes stay focused on Tomoe with gentle compassion. “Have you considered saying what you just told me?” Her voice only slightly shakes with the effort.

“Do you want me to move that or…?”

“No, no! I’ll get it later!” Kaoru attempts to casually toss the box to the side. It’s contents spill out: Michelle paraphernalia and some votive candles. “I intended this outcome.”

Kaoru stands and whips back her hair, the effect is only somewhat lessoned by her heavy panting. “With a desire that noble, I’m certain if you meet her with your compassionate heart things will work out.”

“Do you really think that senpai?”

“Of course I do. I have never once said anything I don’t believe! Remember you cannot spell compassion without passion and that means they’re the same thing! So showing her your compassion is showing her your passion!”

Tomoe isn’t positive that’s true but Kaoru is one of the smartest people she knows so she decides to believe it.

“Now,” Kaoru claps her hand together and points them at Tomoe, “the method you select is very important. Might I suggest a musi—”

“I could send her a letter.”

“Yes, but consider the art of musical thea—”

“Old school style, I could slip it into her shoe locker and have her meet me behind the school!”

“Where the musicale can begin!”

“Senpai… I respect your commitment, but I really can’t sing.”

This confession is the greatest injury Kaoru has ever suffered. “Can’t sing? There’s no one in this world, not one, who cannot sing!” She clasps Tomoe’s shoulders, “How else can you show what lies in your heart? We speak until we are so overcome with emotion we must sing! And when our emotions are too strong for singing we dance!”

“What if our emotions get too strong for dance?”

“I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” her head tilts, “Maybe mime? Or we circle back around to oratory presentation again?”

Tomoe snorts. Her easy smile returns home to her face. “Thanks senpai.”

“Did I do something?” Kaoru asks, releasing Tomoe’s shoulders. “I believe you’re the one who’s done me a great service. You’ve helped me clean and inspired me for a new performance. I am once again certain our chance encounter was fate at work!”

“A new performance? For the theater club?”

“This performance is,” she twirls her hand around, “more of a personal nature. But I’ve just had a breakthrough!” Kaoru turns to Tomoe with that brilliant smile and for a brief moment Tomoe understands Kaoru’s appeal, “I do believe I’ve found my leading players!”

But the bell rings before Tomoe can get an explanation.

* * *

Tomoe leaves a hastily written letter for Himari inside her shoe locker. It’s not exactly Shakespeare but it’ll get Himari to come out behind the gym like they’re in one of those convenience store shoujo manga Himari and Tsugumi always trade back and forth. … Just like in one of those shoujo manga.

The appearance of the situation dawns on Tomoe but it’s too late to take it back. Himari is already there and Tomoe is trying not to focus on the way Himari’s face both relaxes and falls when she sees it’s Tomoe waiting for her.

“Tomoe?” The look on Himari’s face makes Tomoe remember she forgot to sign the note. “What are you…?”

“Ah ha ha! Himari!” Tomoe tries to diffuse the situation with a laugh too forced, “This is… it’s… it’s not what it looks like?”

“It looks like you’re…” Her eyes widen and she stumbles back. She laughs as forced as Tomoe’s, “Ha ha! You’re not…?”

“I-it’s not! No!”

“Good!”

That stings. It shouldn’t sting but the way Himari smiles while saying it feels like a slap. But Tomoe tries to keep going, “I just—I wanted to talk about what Moca said today.”

“What Moca said?” She’s still smiling with her head slightly cocked. “Moca says a lot of things, Tomoe.”

“On the roof,” Tomoe steps forward. Himari steps back. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“I… I don’t know,” her smile trembles. “We were just joking around.”

“Himari, you left. I know it bothered you. I just want to talk—”

“Why would it bother me? I’m not like that.”

Tomoe knows how to deescalate a fight, maybe not like Tsugu but she knows with Himari. She knows how calm her down, how to help her see. But not right now, right now her heart is pounding and she can’t stop herself from asking, even if she regrets it before the words leave her mouth, “Not like what?”

Even the sweetest rabbit when cornered will lash out. “I’m not like you guys—”

“Himari—”

“—I’m normal!”

**Deedle Deedle Doodle Doo**

Their phones ring at the exact same time with the same piercing ringtone.

**Deedle Deedle Doodle Doo**

Himari looks at her phone.

Tomoe looks at her own.

Their screens are both completely black save for a single, spinning white shape: The outline of a bear’s face fixed in a permanent smile.

**Beedle Beedle Boodle Boo**

**Beedle Beedle Boodle Boo**

They know without knowing that they have to go down.

Down, down, down past the basement of Haneoka. Past the boiler and pipes and cobwebs and the rats they go down, down, down.

Below, below, below they wander long past any maps they’ve ever seen to a place left out of any plans. They are far below, below, below.

And they keep going.

And they keep going.

And they keep going.

Until they fall.

No.

It isn’t falling at all. it’s flying backwards with their spines curved towards the ground. Towards the unconsidered sky.

They are enveloped by a world of sound as they pierce through a brilliant red abyss. Somewhere iron is forged into a blade with hiss of a machine’s press. Somewhere else around their ears the writ-ta-tit-tit of a sewing machine whirs. And then there are the buttons, the infinite clicking and clanking of buttons, buttons, buttons.

Until there is silence.

And They Are Reborn.

* * *

When Tomoe is Tomoe again, with feet and hands and hair and all the other things so easily forgotten, she finds herself on a stage. The logic centers of Tomoe’s brain try to tell her such a large hollow space is impossible, that Haneoka cannot fit such a place underneath its floorboards but Tomoe so rarely listens to the reasonable parts of her mind anyway. What she sees and feels is all that is real. And what she sees is the most magnificent stage she’s ever stood on. It’s big, the biggest she’s ever stood on, too big for playing music the acoustics of this voluminous cave would never suit their music.

She’s tempted to call it a circus. Five inconceivably long sunset red-orange velvet curtains form a canopy around the stage until they twist together at top into single strand. They should cast long shadows on the vast, round waxed wooden stage but the shadows are chased away by lights from unseen sources. And so the stage is empty, save for Tomoe in the center and a small pink T taped to the ground. Tomoe remembers it from her brief jaunt into theater her freshman year: position zero. Center stage.

Tomoe steps forward and pauses, confused. The click of her heels is wrong, it’s too loud, too forceful. She looks down and finds her shoes have been replaced slick riding boots. But it’s not just the boots, somewhere between the fall and the landing she’s gained a whole new outfit.

It’s tailored for her, perfectly tailored in a way she now knows she’s never worn before. Tomoe never knew clothes could fit so tightly and yet so freely. There’s a formality to the attire she’s afraid she wears awkwardly: a waistcoat and straight legged trousers with a perfect crease down each leg. Tomoe picks over the layers. The black vest with gold buttons gives way to a crimson shirt. She runs her hands over the sharp collar and finds embroidery on both ends: a set of drumsticks on her right, a familiar ‘A’ on the left. Over the vest is a double breasted coat of the same rich crimson with gold detailing trailing down the trim and along the lengthy tail that runs just above the back of her knees. But the oddest feature of this odd ensemble is the cape over her left shoulder, like a small fur coat in red with a white trim attached across her neck with a heavy gold rope and fashioned with an even heavier gold button. She must make quite the picture.

For the first time in Tomoe’s life she actually feels princely.

And that’s when she finally notices the sword. It’s a testament to how natural it feels in her hand that Tomoe didn’t notice her right hand gripping a claymore more than half her height in length. Tomoe’s always been strong, but she’s never been two-handed sword strong. It’s another mystery for someone smarter to solve.

“Tomoe?”

“Himari!” Tomoe’s attention snaps to the front, past transgressions instantly forgotten in the face of their probable peril.

There she is, trembling and looking to Tomoe for answers as she always does when things are confusing and frightening. But Tomoe cannot remember how to breath, though if it is from Himari’s striking figure or her sudden interest in medieval weaponry she cannot be sure.

Himari has been made into Tomoe’s match. The cut of her vest and coat are a little more feminine, a little more room in the chest, a little less in the waist, and she has a pleated skirt instead of pants but the colors are identical. They’re in Afterglow’s red and black save for Himari’s cape dyed in salmon pink. Her hands shake around the hilt of a great axe. She’s holds like a tennis racket with the elegantly carved head facing out.

Clunk. A spotlight turns on just offstage. The stage is surrounded by empty seats, hundreds, maybe thousands of them on all sides, climbing higher and higher past where their eyes can reach. And out of the one spot of bright light, a voice that is both familiar and foreign booms:

“ **Welcome to the revue.”**

Their eyes adjust to the light and settle on the unsettling ever smiling form of the pink bear in the front row. Their only audience.

“ **You have granted one performance on the stage of desires.**

**One night. One show. One victor. What desire will you show me?”**

“Victor? Performance? What are you talking about? Tomoe?”

Tomoe wants to throw down the sword and comfort Himari but something about the bear’s beady eyes keeps her locked into position.

**“** **The victor is the one whose cape never falls.**

**Only their desires can be fulfilled.”**

Tomoe has a thousand questions but she can’t find the nerve to ask any before Himari says in a small but echoing voice. “Anything I desire?”

**“** **Whatever your heart desires.”**

Himari’s grip shifts. The axehead points to Tomoe’s chest. “Let’s do it.”

“Himari?” Tomoe’s left hand joins her right on her sword’s hilt out of some hidden instinct but she doesn’t want to fight and she thought Himari wouldn’t either.

“This revue or whatever,” Himari nibbles on her lower lip, “if we don’t have to hurt each other and one of us can get something… something good then—” Her voice raises to a shout, “Then what’s the harm in doing what Michelle says?”

“That isn’t Michelle!” Tomoe gestures at the bear the only way she can, with a hundred centimeter blade and a glare, “Michelle is Misaki! That’s some unholy… bad thing.”

“Please. Please Tomoe. This is my only chance.”

“Your only chance for what?”

“I…”

“Okay.” The blade lowers for just a second before Tomoe squares her shoulders and her resolve. “For you. Okay.”

It is all the bear needs to hear.

“ **Our players tonight are bound by the strongest of bonds:**

**The blood of the covenant,**

**The same color as the setting sun they hold so dear.**

**Can two be never changing?**

**Tonight we witness:**

**The Revue of Denial.”**

Nothing feels different. Tomoe expects such a dramatic declaration to come with an equally dramatic _something_ but the stage remains still. Himari stays staring at Tomoe with the sort of manic determination Tomoe’s never seen in her best friend’s eyes.

Tomoe’s body tenses. She’s ready to pounce. Himari’s fit but Tomoe is very tall and built of muscles on muscles. She can end the fight quickly, even if the idea of swinging a sword at Himari makes her want to throw up all over that damn bear.

Tomoe lunges forward with a cry like she’s going for the taiko. There’s not much space between them and there’s less by the millisecond as she hurtles towards Himari and—

A piano starts playing somewhere.

So Tomoe throws herself to one side, just as Himari dodges to the other side and they’re just about the same distance apart as they started but now a piano is playing in the background and Tomoe definitely Does Not Know What To Do.

But Himari does.

Clunk. A spotlight just for her appears as the other stage lights dim.

Then she opens her mouth and begins to sing.

_Ever since I was little_

_I’ve had a trusted heart._

Himari is a fine singer. She’s no Ran but no one is Ran and that’s fine. Himari is Himari. But the voice coming out of Himari’s mouth is not Himari’s. Maybe it is but it’s just better, better than Tomoe knows she can sing. It’s the shower version of Himari’s voice: the version you imagine when you sing by yourself.

_I’ve never told a secret of my own,_

_But maybe it’s time to start._

Tomoe’s rooted in place again as Himari strolls around her. Her pigtails bounce as she walks with her axe clutched to her chest like a microphone. Her voice pours out like spring rain, fresh and soft and everywhere. The sword falls lax in Tomoe’s hands, her eyes are too transfixed on Himari to notice.

_You’re clearly mulling it over,_

_So I think it’s time to say._

“Himari,” Tomoe forgets where she is. Forgets the bear off to the side and the stage they’re on and whatever the hell a revue is and just sees the girl she lo—cares so much about on the verge of tears and singing in a voice so sweet.

_Tomoe, you ought to know already,_

_That I am…_

_So cool…_

Scccching. CLASH.

Tomoe’s sword realizes the axe is coming just in time to catch the blade on the edge. Himari winks and pushes them apart.

The piano tinkles up the scale.

_With Gaaaaaays._

“What.”

* * *

**{The Revue of Denial}**

**< Song: I Am So Cool With Gays>**

* * *

Brass and woodwind sections kick in and kick up a swinging broadway tune. Somewhere just out of sight there’s probably a jazz bear jamboree made up of fifteen pseudo Michelles having the time of their lives. As the music begins to swell the stage shifts around them. The sunset canopy above twirls until the five strands become a solid roof pulsing with every color the sky can contain.

Himari hops foot to foot backwards and in time with the music. With every one of her footsteps the floor rise to meet her, creating a staircase of glowing colors one step at a time.

Violet.

Blue.

Green.

Yellow.

Orange.

And at the very top: Red.

_I am so cool... with gays_

The head of the axe clunks into the ground. Himari leans her weight into it like it’s a cane and wiggles her hips and taps her foot along with the 1, 2, 3, beat.

_I’ll tell you for days._

The axe spins around and around. Tomoe struggles to look away.

_That I LOVE the gays_

BzzBzzBzzt.

Lightbulbs hum to life behind Himari’s rainbow stairway. A word buzzes and frames Himari in it’s bright yellow-white glow: the word GAY written out in half a story high light. Each bulb twinkles like the stars in a lightly offensive constellation.

She slips just a little off the axe as she adds:

… _in platonic ways!_

“Himari! This is ridiculous!” Tomoe finds the strength in her lungs and legs to follow to the foot of the stairs. She climbs the violet step.

“This is musical theater Tomoe!”

“Same difference!” Tomoe struggles with the blue step and by green one she’s forced to use her claymore as a walking stick. The steps are elongating out of reach, allowing Himari continue her dance on top unchallenged.

The music scoots jauntily to the next verse.

_My friends are all queers._

Tomoe tosses her sword up the yellow step first, glad to have years of core work to help her pull up the rest of her.

_I’ve known it for years._

The orange step is higher still and her arms complain painfully as she chucks the horribly impractically large sword up and over before scrambling like a dog realizing too late it doesn’t know how to climb a tree.

_So have you no fears_

Why is she even bringing the sword? Tomoe wonders in the face of the last step looming over her. She decides it’s because crazy theater major Himari is still holding a giant axe at the top and the idea of facing her empty handed it a lot scarier than what she’s going to have to do to get up the last stair. Tomoe gets as much distance between herself and the widening stair as she can.

‘ _Cause I’m still here…_

And runs for the red step/wall, stabbing the claymore into the ground like the least efficient pole vaulter in the world. It shouldn’t work, it absolutely should not work but somehow like everything else, it just does.

Tomoe lands on her feet, sword somehow still in hand.

… _ssss_

Lips still buzzing in an attempt at a rhyme, Himari backs away from Tomoe. Behind her another giant sign lights up: ALLY. The words GAY and ALLY begin to spin up and down around them, hoisted by unseen ropes.

A trumpet begins to blast as Tomoe launches herself at Himari. Himari gracefully dodges her blow with a whirl of violins, her body and axe spinning like a top precariously along the narrow step.

Forward! Away! Forward! Away! But there’s only so much away Himari can go before she falls and despite how each swing of the sword should exhaust her the music only pumps Tomoe’s heart louder and keeps her standing.

She only needs one strike, one strike to cut through that rope and free Himari from this… hellsical revue. Tomoe pushes Himari back onto the very edge of the step and raises her sword.

Just in time for Himari to jump off.

For a split second the music goes silent and so does Tomoe’s heart. She’s just about to rush to the edge when the music returns louder and brassier than ever and Himari rises up astride the ALLY light, singing. With a chorus of a dozen other voices.

_I am so cool with gays_

_*She is so cool with gays*_

Tomoe is faced with a truly unique situation: what do you do when your deeply closeted friend has leapt off a tower of symbolism onto a bright flashing lie while singing a show stopping number about how gosh-darn supportive she is?

You jump onto your own literal sign rotating around in the air. Does it count as symbolism if it’s just a factual statement?

“Oof.” Tomoe hits the GAY hard, mostly with her stomach, but she’s finally getting a hang of things and she regains her balance back quick. Not as quick Himari who’s doing a precarious kick cross step into a high kick on the letter L.

_I’ll tell you for days_

_*She’ll tell you for days*_

Their lightbulb signs circle each other clockwise and counterclockwise. Tomoe wipes the sweat from her brow and points her sword at Himari. “I’m coming for you.”

Himari’s dancing stutters, “No fair! You look so cool Tomoe!”

“Eh? Really?” Tomoe tugs on her collar, it’s so hot on top of this light. “I just feel sweaty. How do you feel? You look pretty red.”

“It’s just the singing!” Himari excuses as her sign passes above Tomoe’s. “Don’t check in on me! We’re fighting!”

_That I love the gays_

_*_ _She LOVES the gays!*_

The trajectory is clear, Tomoe prepares herself for another leap as ALLY swings within reach. It’s only a few meters gap away—and a few stories up in the air but she tries not to think on that—and Tomoe’s always been good at long distance jumping. So she tries.

And misses.

_But in a heteroplatonic way!_

_Ssss!_

_*That’s not a word*_

Sccccrrrrrrrrrrrrreeeeaaaaach.

But with the horrible screech of metal on metal Tomoe stabs her sword into the Y as she falls, slowing her descent and dragging the letter Y down along with her.

The stage shudders as she crashes into it. Glass and electricity pop around Tomoe’s huddled form, desperately trying to protect her delicate body parts from shards with other delicate body parts. At least she has two hands.

When the last spark singes the ground, Tomoe is delighted to find her limbs still intact. She pushes off the ground with her sword, standing up just in time to see Himari neatly land on her feet. The signs flank her on both sides: ALL GAY.

“Subtle.”

Himari’s head whips behind her. Her briefly cool image is ruined by her panicked expression. “I-It refers to my friends. They’re ALL GAY.”

The music settles into a quiet, repeating vamp. The trumpet and the violin circle around each other.

“You do not have THAT many gay friends!”

“Oh really?” Himari taps her foot against the ground, the boot rings out as if she was wearing the finest tap shoes. “There’s…”

_Misaki, Ran and Moca_

_Lisa and Ako too._

Taptaptaptap.

Taptaptaptap.

Taptaptaptaptatap.

As far as Tomoe knows Himari has never taken tap lessons, but she’s never taken singing lessons either and that’s hardly stopped her tonight. She shuffle steps circles around Tomoe, talk-singing out the names of their friends.

_Masuki, Rei and Rokka_

_Oh what is a girl to do?_

Six person size headshots zoom past Tomoe’s head, their edges sharp as razors. They lodge into the ground, proudly displaying the images of people Himari has named.

_Sayo, Hina_

_Rimi and Tsugumi_

_Hagumi, Yukina_

_Oh what could they do to me_

Tomoe swings out and slices Hina’s photo in half as it flies by and flutters in two pieces to ground. The other five strike around her, leaving Tomoe almost entirely surrounded by the faces of serious teen lesbians.

_Maya and Saya—_

“Saya’s gay?” Tomoe’s not necessarily going to do anything with the information but she’s always liked Saya.

The tap dancing halts. “S-she’s like a Kinsey two. Just a little bicurious probably.”

“I could be a two,” Tomoe studies the picture. Saya has those bright blue eyes and that bakery brown hair. Now that Tomoe gets a good look at her, Saya really is very attractive.

Riiipschhing!

And in two pieces on the floor.

Himari tugs her axe out of the ground, “Did I say Saya? I meant Sayo.” She kicks the pieces to the side. “SayO is gay.”

“But you already said Sayo—”

“She’s so gay I had to say it twice! Obviously!” Himari levels the axe head at Tomoe, “Get her girls!”

“What are you—”

Tomoe is cut off by a swell of music and twelve figures emerging from their headshots. Her friends—and little sister—shimmer and shake like paper in the wind in front of her. For a split second they look normal, though flat, until their forms settle and it becomes apparent they’re all dressed in red and black plaid flannel and sporting highly practical cropped haircuts—the very image of Tomoe’s hair in middle school.

She’s surrounded on all sides by familiar and heavily armed lesbian lumberjacks.

Tatatatatatap.

Himari taps out a rhythm and Misaki, Ran and Moca charge out, hands full of paper thin maces.

Tomoe spins the blade out in a circle in time with the blaring trumpet, slicing through her nearest and dearest friends and also Misaki. It’s a little cathartic. They fall to the ground as halves of photos once again.

TataTAtataTatatatap.

Ako and Lisa lunge for her. Tomoe sends her senpai a silent apology as she reduces her to photo paper and meets her little sister’s own claymore. It’s not the time to think about it but Tomoe admires how cool Ako looks with short hair and a matching sword. But it’d be disrespectful not to go after her with everything she has so Tomoe makes short work of her. The real Ako would do much better.

TapAtaTap! TapAtaTap!

The RAISE A SUILEN trio are tougher. At first it seems Masuki and Rei are the worrisome ones but Rokka dives straight for Tomoe’s neck and Tomoe only dodges by a hair. She tosses them into one another and then into her sword but makes a note to tell Masuki she’d look really good if she cut off all the hair.

TaptataTaptataTapTapTapTapTaaaaaaap!

The last six emerge together, though Yukina struggles under the weight of her own paper great sword and accidentally impales herself back to inanimation. Tomoe grins, she can handle five.

Sayo is as feral as she expected, using a bow like a club. Rimi fights like a tiger with her bare hands and claws scratching at the arm Tomoe barely holds her off with. Even when she’s made of paper Hagumi has the upper and lower body strength of an orangutan on bath salts. Maya is wily, attacking Tomoe’s back and Tsugumi—Tsugumi is still Tsugumi, she looks very apologetic as she tries to hit Tomoe with her tray.

It’s a hard fought victory. She catches Sayo under the chin with her knee as she gets enough leverage with the sword to cut through Maya and Hagumi. Rimi is hard to throw off but she gets there. But cutting through Tsugumi as she tries to bap Tomoe over the head feels too cruel, even for a fake. Tomoe reaches out and lightly flicks paper Tsugumi’s forehead, she crumples. Tomoe’s still certain she’s going to hell for that, but she deserves for hurting even a pretend Tsugu.

_You might not even guess it but I’m really quite progressive!_

Himari’s leg bends up behind her like a wink as she sings before her dance break continues.

Tomoe kicks at the cut up cutouts of her friends and starts towards Himari again. The scene is a bit grotesque but the pictures start to fade away quickly. Just as they disappear, one last figure rises from the ground.

It’s the lanky figure of something resembling Kaoru Seta in a sparkling Canadian tuxedo and a crew cut. There’s about three centimeters of difference between Tomoe and Kaoru normally but it seems her senpai has had a four hour growth spurt and tripled the difference between them. All of her features are pointier. Her chin may as well be a pair of scissors. Even dressed in denim, this must be the prince of Himari’s imagination, and probably Kaoru’s too.

“Come and dance with me, my princess,” says Phantom Kaoru in a voice suspiciously closer to Himari’s than the one Tomoe knows so well.

Before Tomoe can react, Kaoru’s hand lashes out and wraps around her waist. Not her hand, a bull whip. Kaoru tugs and twirls Tomoe into her arms like a piece of spaghetti. Tomoe’s sword flies out of her hands.

Those same hands are quickly pulled apart as Kaoru clasps their hands together and begins to rock them side to side to swinging rhythm of Himari’s tap dancing feet.

Box step, box step, pivot step, pivot step. Arms out, arms in. Come around and back again.

Box step, box step, pivot step, pivot step. Arms out, arms in. Come around and back again.

Box step, box step, pivot step, pivot step. Arms out, arms in. Come around and back again.

_Come on ladies, swap some spit! It can’t hurt to kiss a bit!_

“Himari?!” Tomoe stares wide eyed around ghost Kaoru’s shoulder.

Taptatap—“I’m saying it for you!”—taptaptap—“You and Kaoru would be really hot—”she stumbles. “Really happy together!”

Something grinds to a halt in Tomoe’s head. It’s fun to let phantom Kaoru lead but she’s not here for fun and she’s definitely not here to play follow. She steps down hard on Kaoru’s toes and uses the second of freedom to clamp down around Kaoru’s waist and grip her ethereal partner’s hand tight. “My turn.”

They flip around. Tomoe guides the ghost across the stage with gusto and great showmanship, not for the audience offstage but for the one just behind her.

“Sorry Senpai,” Tomoe dips denim clad Kaoru with one arm while grabbing her sword from the ground with the other. She would do anything for Himari.

Sccching. Even vivisect a homoerotic facsimile of her favorite senpai.

Kaoru falls back to sheets of paper with a fleeting sigh.

Tomoe rises up and takes the sword in both hands. The music is triumphant. “Himari. Let’s end this.”

“Not yet.” Two ropes lower behind Himari. Before Tomoe can stop her, she straps in her axe between them and jumps on the makeshift swing swiftly rising into the air. “We still have the grand finale!”

Himari dangles in the air, lifting herself to her feet on the bar in a feat of acrobatics that makes Tomoe’s stomach knot with worry and second hand vertigo. The music swells to its peak, to a grand and final chorus.

_I am so cool with gays!_

Lilies sprout where her hands grab the rope and climb up the length like sapphic ivy. Himari raises one leg up as the swing begins to rock back and forth in a wide arc.

_I’ll tell you for days!_

The flashing lit up signs, ALL GAY, return to circle around her. Spinning so they reverse back and forth: ALL GAY, GAY ALL, ALL GAY, GAY ALL. As the music rises to it’s last crescendo!

_That I love the gays_

_IN PLATONIC WAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYS_

Himari ends her note with her hands thrown out and her footing so precarious Tomoe can’t breath until Himari sits down on the bar, panting, huffing, but not done. Because the piano from the beginning returns to underscore Himari’s thoughtful expression with a soft coda.

Clunk. One spotlight. One girl.

_So Tomoe, my Tomoe_

_I know that you don’t go my way_

_It’s time for you to come out_

Something fundamental inside Tomoe breaks. She is tired. She is sweaty. She is wearing what is functionally a three piece suit under hot stage lights and the piercing eyes of a fake bear and her best friend has just performed a “but I’m not gay” cabaret number and Still Doesn’t Get It and her feelings are just so, so, so, so MUCH that she has absolutely, completely no choice…

…but to sing.

**THAT’S NOT WHAT THIS SONG IS ABOOOOOOOOOUUUUTT**

Clunk. Two spotlights. Two girls.

Tomoe shakes. She’s not a good singer and whatever autotune magic is floating around doesn’t seem to affect her voice but her feelings can’t be spoken.

**H-himari. You’re my best friend**

**We’ve been through thick and thin…d**

Himari smiles. Despite everything, her surprise turns to that smile Tomoe loves—yes loves—so much. And that’s enough to keep voice as steady as she can manage.

**I came out to you when we were eight**

**I wanted to ask you on a… date**

**Right there.**

“Tomoe. Don’t.”

“I have to.”

**But I waited. And I’ve waited.**

**For you to learn who you are.**

Tomoe walks forward with heavy feet, one footstep after another. She tosses the sword to the side. Love songs don’t need blades. When she’s under Himari she holds out her arms.

**So I waited. And I’ve waited.**

**And we’ve come this far.**

Tomoe feels the sting of tears at her eyes. She wants Himari to love herself as much as she loves Himari. So despite it all, she keeps singing.

**I know I’m not much for singing**

**I’m not a shining star**

**But if this stage shows my desire.**

**Himari, just look where you are.**

Center stage.

**I need you**

_Not like that_

**I want you**

_Not like that_

_**I** _ _**love you** _

Their voice echo over the stage and out to the audience. But Tomoe doesn’t care who’s watching, her eyes are fixed on Himari, wavering on the bar, struggling with the words she’s just said.

“Not… like…”

Until she falls.

Down.

Down.

Down.

But Tomoe is there.

Himari never hits the ground. Tomoe follows the weight of the girl in her arms down to her knees but she never lets Himari touch the ground.

The music stops. There is only one spotlight left.

Tomoe cradles Himari to her chest, falling back onto the stage with Himari pouring into her lap. Her arms never budge. Tomoe holds Himari and Himari clings back as begins to shake with the painful tears of someone forced via the magic of musical theater to look themselves in the eyes. Tomoe’s lapel becomes a tissue, her arms a blanket and the soft nothings she murmurs into pink hair the white noise of comfort.

“I think…” Himari’s words get lost between jagged sobs.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Tomoe strokes Himari’s head. “I’ve got you. You don’t have to say anything.”

“I think I’m gay.”

Tomoe doesn’t speak, she just presses her lips to the top of Himari’s head and huffs warm air onto the part in her hair and let’s Himari curl up so close it’s like she’s trying to crawl inside. Then finally, when Himari’s tears slow to a trickle she says with a grin Himari can feel against her forehead, “Good thing I’m so cool with gay people.”

“Tomoe!” Himari whines with a playful shove.

Tomoe jerks away and with her arm falls the cape from Himari’s shoulders. The gold button is left behind in Tomoe’s fingers. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

“It’s okay,” Himari pulls Tomoe back and giggles into her scene partner’s shoulder, “It means you win right? I’m okay if you win.”

“What do I even win? My heart’s desire?” She flips the button in the air and catches. “I already got that.”

“Eh? But—”

“I don’t care if you return my feelings Himari. I just want you to know how much I love you,” Tomoe thumbs over the button in her palm. “A-and now you do so…”

“Can I wait to give you my answer?” Himari face shows a bashfulness Tomoe isn’t used to.

Tomoe runs her hand over Himari’s cheek. “Of course! I can wait as long as—”

“I love you too!” Himari grabs Tomoe’s hand back with teary, determined green eyes.

“That was fast! That was too fast!”

“I thought I wanted to think about it but I don’t! I just want to love you!”

“Okay! Okay Himari.” Tomoe taps their foreheads together. “I just want to love you too.”

And the sunset curtain falls down over them.

* * *

Time has passed and yet no clock has stirred. The theater is closed. The actors have gone home. The ghost light is the only glow on stage now and yet someone stirs in the audience.

“That was magnificent Michelle!” From the shadows emerges the ever aggrandizing figure of Kaoru Seta with a joyous cry. “Just as you said it would be!”

Michelle’s head rotates slowly, face unmoving, eyes unblinking with a silence and a stare that would unnerve anyone in that dim light other than a fool.

But that fool is too delighted by her experiments’ results to find her friend’s behavior queer. “They were so happy! So incredibly intimate with song and dance and then, at the climax, song made their problems simply vanish!” The stars in Kaoru’s eyes turn to galaxies, “Michelle, could we do this for others? For all the others? For my kittens. For all my friends. For—”

A single raised paw stops Kaoru’s speech and Michelle’s head once again drags forward so her beady eyes can focus on that spot in the center of the stage once again: position zero.

And in a voice not quite as Kaoru remembers, Michelle whispers.

**“I understand.”**

**Author's Note:**

> This was so much fun to write, I hope I can do another sometime. Special thanks to Alice (silversilky on here) for being so inspiring with her BandoRevue AU, go check it out! It is so wonderful! 
> 
> Feel free to follow me on twitter where I ramble about Bandori, RevStar and musicals all the time. I'm @TheShinySword (18+ only please)


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